theology

Today at Vintage, we held a theological symposium of sorts, which you can listen to here, or you can search iTunes for Vintage Fellowship. In our journey through Romans, we have encountered the idea of the atonement, what the death of Jesus accomplishes for us. So, today, we decided to pull back and consider the atonement from a broad theological perspective. We talked about how the best stories can be told and retold from various vantage points and with different emphases. The story of the cross is no exception. Throughout its history, the church has told the story different ways.

Ransom: The death of Jesus bought us back from the power of the Devil.–Release: The death of Jesus freed us from the power of sin and death.–Redemption: The death of Jesus paid a price we could not pay on our own.–Representation: The death of Jesus exemplified God’s love for us.–Reconciliation: The death of Jesus provided a way for us back into relationship with God.–Re-Creation: The death of Jesus inaugurated a new world and reality.

In the hour or so that we discussed these, there were several important considerations that didn’t get mentioned explicitly. They are too important to just ignore, and so I thought I would blog them. Anyone, those who were at Vintage today and those who weren’t, are more than invited to join the conversation.

Metaphors

Throughout our discussion today, we referred to the various ways to tell the atonement story as “theories.” This is quite common, but the more I think about it, the more unfortunate I think it is. I think it would be better to refer to them as “metaphors.”

Theories compete with one another, causing division and argument. Theories typically attempt to be a comprehensive explanation of something and can be easily rejected out of hand. Metaphors are different. Metaphors shed light and spread understanding without explaining everything.

If we think of the various atonement stories as metaphors rather than theories, we can learn from each of them, recognizing that each has something to teach us even without telling the whole story. As metaphors, the stories of the cross are limited and yet complimentary.

Hebrew Sacrificial SystemA couple of times this morning, we mentioned the Hebrew sacrificial system and the idea of telling the story through the lens of Jesus being the Lamb of God. What I intended to do and yet failed to do because of time (and my faulty memory) was to place this metaphor as a viable alternative to penal substitution. Penal substitution sees the atonement as a price paid on behalf of a guilt party by an innocent party within the divine courtroom of a just Judge. When penal substitution is told in such a way as to present God the Father as an angry, vindictive being, it can come off as bad news, not good news.

And yet, the themes of substitution are present throughout the Scriptures. In the Hebrew sacrificial system, the guilt of sin was transferred to an animal which would be slaughtered so that its blood could be a covering for sin. Jesus is the substitute for the sacrificial lamb, whose blood covers our sin so that we can be forgiven.

Universal Component Today, like often happens in atonement discussions, we focused almost exclusively on the personal benefits of the atonement. We failed to explore the universal implications of the atonement. The death of Jesus is not just life for me. It impacts, in biblical terms, all tribes, tongues, and nations. The death of Jesus impacts the planet and the cosmos. Whenever we tell the story as purely a personal story, we miss the important universal components of the story.

I feel like we just began to scratch the surface this morning of what could (and maybe should) be a full semester of discussions. Thankfully, we have a lifetime to explore together all that the death of Jesus means to us.

My dear friend, Bryan, doesn’t like my take on Rob Bell’s book Love Wins. We disagree. So … we could do what so many people did in the wake of the release of Love Wins. We could call each other names, question each other’s fidelity to the gospel, and condemn one another to hell, be it a literal lake of fire or a miserable party experience.

But, no, Bryan and I aren’t going to do that. We decided to have a civil discourse about Love Wins and the question of eternal, conscious torment. We hope to help each other understand the gospel better while also demonstrating that two people can sharply disagree without resorting to vitriol and judgment.

After reading the book, and what I’ve written here on the Grenz (links at the bottom), Bryan sent along this guest post. Read it. Enjoy it. I will tear it to shreds in the comments. Join in the conversation.

Lombardi Wins: Victory, Defeat, and the Outcome of Every Team in the NFL

With cameras rolling, the Super Bowl hero jumps up and down with his index finger pointed upward, shouting on national television, “We’re number 1! We’re number 1!”

Really?He knows this?Without a doubt?

In light of the endlessly frustrating NFL lockout, there is a way for Commissioner Goodell to get the teams playing again. But it is also a long term plan that, in the end, will surprise…it will astonish…it will amaze…everyone.

Up to this point in NFL history, it has been assumed that a grueling training camp, a relatively meaningless pre-season and a long, injury-prone 16 game regular season, followed by the playoffs where only a select few teams get to keep playing, has been the best way to play professional football.

Huh? Is it really?

What about the other teams who don’t make the playoffs? What happens to all their effort? Is it wasted? Was it for nothing? Truth is: they spent just as many hours planning and playing as the other teams. Is it fair that they have to go home while a few “elite” teams get to move on? What kind of message does this send to their sponsors and fans?

Can Commissioner Goodell actually send these hard-playing, effort-giving teams into the ill-fated offseason with no hope or reward? What kind of commissioner is that? What type of sports league would reward a mere few special franchises with the chance to play on while punishing multiple others by sending them home for the year?

The playoffs are actually a time for every team to start over. To begin again. Like overtime, there’s a new coin toss. A football renewal, if you will. After all, the ground is level at the 50-yard line both at the beginning of the game as well as at the end of the game. And it’s time the entire season reflected that.

Besides, every player on every team already knows full well both the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. For every game already has its own share of winners and losers, victories and defeats. There is victory in every proper formation, every perfectly run pass route, every first down scamper. Likewise, there’s defeat in every fumble, every missed tackle and every wide-to-the-left field goal shank.

Thus, winning and losing are not ultimate states of being, but present realities contained within every game.

Therefore, the subsequent rewarding of the Super Bowl championship to only one team at the end of the season ends up being both unfair and redundant. Plus, it only serves to further underscore (no pun intended) the chasm that currently exists between the football have’s and the football have-not’s.

Think of it: if the only teams who realistically have a shot at the Super Bowl championship each year are the Indianapolises, the New England’s, the Pittsburgh’s and the Green Bay’s of the league, then what incentive do the other teams have for suiting up at all months earlier in training camp? Why play every down of every game all season long if it’s all for naught in the end anyway? Such a system is terribly hopeless and counterproductive for the other 31 teams. More importantly, it raises serious questions about the commissioner, the entire league and even the sport of football itself.

Frankly, who are we to say the team with the most points at the end of the game always wins? Or, why is it the team who wins the last game is always crowned the Super Bowl champion?

For that matter, what exact formula for winning should be followed? Whose criteria for victory should be used? It’s possible for the concept of winning to be defined in many different ways.

Hence, a plan of surprise, a season of the unexpected…yea, a sport where mystery prevails.

What a wonderful surprise to all the Detroit’s and Cleveland’s of the league to take an entirely different approach to the season! It is high time to view Pro Football from a whole new angle.

It’s time for the NFL to change. It’s time for more….

This season, when the clock runs out on the Super Bowl game at Lucas Oil Stadium in Indianapolis on February 5th, 2012, regardless of the scoreboard, instead of having the “winning” team come to the podium, Commissioner Goodell will invite all 32 teams to the center of the field. And with the sound of Freddie Mercury belting, “We are the Champions,” across the stadium, and with confetti and champagne covering every NFL owner, player, coach, staff member and fan alike, each team will rush the field of their own free will in order to celebrate and then be presented with, yes, its very own Lombardi Trophy in all of its splendor.

Every team. The Lombardi Trophy. No one excluded.

Everyone victorious.United in joy.A league-wide celebration.

No doubt, this surprising plan will have residual positive effects for the entire league for years to come. Players won’t have to practice each week with the fear of losing in the back of their minds. Free from having to explain failures and miscues, coaches will actually enjoy postgame press conferences. Many insufferable fans who’ve been disillusioned with their team’s perennial Super Bowl absence will be genuinely won back to the game. Many previously non-fans will finally come into the NFL fold away from Pro Tennis and Formula One Racing. Plus, every vendor will make a decent living just selling: “We’re 1 of #32 winners!” foam fingers.

In addition, it will be a huge windfall for the league and for the sport as a whole. Truckloads more in profits and endorsements will pour in. Every owner will be able to afford to build a brand new stadium with all the creature comforts fans so richly deserve. Why, even third-stringers will finally become product endorsers and company spokespersons.

As a result, Commissioner Goodell will be in his glory. He’s always wanted the NFL to be supra-cultural and global in its following. This will accomplish that and more. In fact, he could well become the savior of the entire sport, perhaps sports, in general (think Chicago Cubs, LA Clippers, etc.). Question is: does Goodell always get what he wants?

Think of it: he will be able to end the oppression of the losers and stop the exploitation of playoff-missers. He will rescue the poor in talent by shattering the arrogance of the elite. He will deliver the annually broken-hearted as he crushes the pride of the exclusive winners. Detroit will no longer be football hell. Cleveland will become dog-pound heaven on earth, here and now. Rebuilding years will become rebuilding moments. The future will be the present.

For that matter, consider the trickle-down results this astonishing plan will also have on all the Pee Wee leagues around the country, on every starry-eyed child who dreams of one day playing professional football. No more minivan rides home with a muddy, sobbing 7 year-old loser. No more cocky fist pumps and scornful looks coming from the victor’s sideline, touting the score and their pigskin prowess. No. Instead, participant ribbons for everyone! They’re all winners!

Lastly, this plan should go a long way to effectively (and permanently) end all collective bargaining debates, holdouts, lockouts and labor disputes. For at the end of the season, every team will get to raise the Super Bowl trophy and write ultimate victory into their own franchise story. You can’t put a price tag on that. Besides, it’s the love of the game for which they play.

Remember, “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing,” said the legendary coach. And Commissioner Goodell couldn’t agree more. So while the plan may be a bit unorthodox at first glance, the surprising end results are extremely appealing. For winning isn’t everything; it’s the everyone thing. And winning isn’t just the only thing; it’s also the final thing.

So, although temporarily rolling over in his grave in Middletown, NJ, come February, in Indianapolis, IN,…once again…it will be Lombardi who wins.

One of my most cherished memories from my time pastoring a church in Michigan is the Pastors’ Theology Roundtable. The Roundtable was a group of pastors who got together every couple of months to debate doctrine in a safe environment. All of us had various beliefs that were off the beaten track that, given the rather restrictive nature of our denomination, were unable to be openly discussed in our churches. The Roundtable gave us the opportunity to present our ideas and to hash them out together. We rarely agreed, but came to love one another deeply and to value our time together.

The Roundtable affirmed to me that clear theological debate can take place without the name-calling and condemnation that characterizes so much of the Church today. And it has me wondering … could we recreate the Roundtable here? Could the Grenz counter the blogosphere culture by being a place where people can pursue truth without sacrificing grace?

Admittedly, the flap over my review of Rob Bell’s Love Wins gives me pause. But I believe in us. I am hopeful.

So … here is what is going to happen.

I have written a paper entitled The Glorious Kingdom: mystery and generosity that I am going to circulate to a couple of pastor friends of mine. I am hoping that they will write a response, poking holes in my arguments and pointing out my blind spots. Then, I am going to post all of them – my paper and the responses to it – here on the Grenz.

I know that this is going to be lengthy. My paper is over 3,000 words, and that’s without any responses. But I think it and the responses may be able to do two things: 1) help to dial back the vitriol so common in theological discussion today by demonstrating how to disagree with grace, and 2) further the discussion we are now having about hell and universalism. You can read and think and decide for yourself. And, more importantly, you can enter the discussion.

So, what do you think? Am I crazy for hoping to turn the Grenz into a Theology Roundtable? Do you want a seat at the table?

I think I have been fairly candid about the fact that I am in the process of clarifying and solidifying my own beliefs about the idea of eternal, conscious torment in a physical locale called “Hell” and the implications of such an idea on our understanding of God. But, this anonymous person has asked several questions of me. I’m going to assume, maybe against my better judgment, that these questions were asked in good faith and not as accusations. So, I’ve decided to answer them. I’m all for this conversation.

You say you teach grace but I remember when you taught Truth & Grace. What happen to truth?

I believe in truth. I believe truth is found in Jesus. I believe the story of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection is the truest thing we know. I believe Jesus reveals truth to us, and by that I mean that Jesus shows us the reality of life in God. Most people live a sham, far from what God intended, far from the best version of themselves, far from reality, far from truth. The truth we are all desperately in need of is found in him. The Bible reveals and records for us the true story of Jesus. I love and cherish it. And each Sunday at Vintage Fellowship, I attempt to show how the truth of the story of Jesus intersects with our own stories.

How can you not be sure if there is a Hell?

Hell is no joke to me. It is not something I take lightly. A teaching about hell that includes eternal, conscious torment of human beings ought to get our attention. Sit with that for a moment. Eternal. Conscious. Torment.

Who relishes this idea? Sadly, I think some Christians in this Rob Bell debate come off like they do. Well, I don’t. And I don’t think God does either.

I believe in a God who grace is surprising and overwhelming and irresistible. And while I can’t (and don’t) say with any certainty, I am holding out hope that God’s grace is greater than eternal, conscious torment, that God is moved with pity toward … not just me and my friends … but toward all of us. I am not a universalist, but I hope God is.

Is that such a dangerous thing to hope for?

Have you forgotten the words in the Bible or do you not believe them anymore?

I absolutely believe the words in the Bible. It’s the translations and interpretations of people I question. When Jesus used the word “hell,” what was he referring to? What would his hearers have thought of and understood? What are the Greek words for “eternal” and “forever,” and are we eisegeting our western mindset into them when we read them? What is the book of Revelation really all about? How was it received and understood by the original readers?

These are the hermeneutical questions I’m asking of the Bible. I don’t mind if someone comes to a different conclusion than I do. I think the Christian tradition is big enough and generous enough to accommodate differences.

You always told us to be very careful, to steer clear of new age religion, now you not only teach it to your church, you teach it to your kids.

I am not sure what is meant by “new age religion,” but I can very clearly what I teach my church and my kids. I teach them to trust Jesus. I teach them that on their own, they are only going to screw their lives up. That Jesus is their rescue, their model, their only hope and help. I teach them be kind, to be gentle, to be sold-out for love. I teach them not to expect everyone to agree with them all the time and to, in fact, celebrate and learn from different perspectives. I teach them to think for themselves and to search the wonderful story of the Bible for the answers they seek. I teach them, I hope, grace and truth.

What happened to you Robb?

I’d bet that this question is meant to be pejorative. But it’s not a bad question. It’s true, I am not who I used to be. Maybe I ought to write a book about how I have been transformed from a fundamentalist pastor into an emergent church planter …

I devoured Rob Bell’s new book Love Wins as soon as it hit my iBook shelves. I was tremendously excited about this book for myriad reasons: I’m a big Rob Bell fan who has read all of his books and really appreciate his style. Also, the controversy that erupted even before Love Wins came out made it a must-read for anyone engaging in contemporary theological discussion.

And … not the least of these, the topic has been of interest to me for more than 5 years now. As I wrote about previously, Vintage Fellowship was birthed in part by a question rising within me that challenged the traditional parameters of heaven and hell. Wouldn’t it be just like God to let everyone in? That’s a question I’ve been asking for a while now. Love Wins is a significant contribution to the answer.

While I am sure the folks at Harper One relish in it, much of the debate about Love Wins is regrettable yet unavoidable. Two things drive the inevitability of the debate: the intentional misreading of the book by some and the intentional vagueness of Rob Bell’s writing.

Our church gives out free copies of Rob’s first book, Velvet Elvis, to people in Northwest Arkansas. We have been criticized for doing so by those claiming that in Velvet Elvis, Rob denies the virgin birth. This criticism is an intentional misreading of Velvet Elvis. I am fairly confident that people reading it with an agenda would proffer much of the criticism of Love Wins. Readers who are looking to label Rob a Universalist will find passages to further their cause.

The presence of those passages, however, can be attributed to Rob’s intentionally vague writing style. It seems to me that Rob is going more for artistic impact that theological precision. While such an approach makes for a well-written and easy-to-read book, it also leaves Rob open to criticism and mis-labeling. In fact, the vagueness and open-endedness made it very difficult for me to discuss Love Wins with people who haven’t read it.

So, is Rob Bell a Universalist? Uh, I don’t think so.What does he say about what the afterlife will be like? Uh, he doesn’t really get into that.Does he believe in hell? Uh, yeah. But not like you might think.

Basically, here is my understanding of Rob’s position: God loves us so much that he gives us complete and total freedom. If there is no such freedom, love would not exist. In that freedom, we all choose heavens and hells everyday. These heavens are hells are both present now in life and present later in the afterlife. Hell is the natural consequence of those who pull away from God, but ultimately, God’s love will win the day. Ultimately, all people will be reconciled to God and each other because love wins.

(As an aside, Rob’s strong dependence on the idea of human freedom doesn’t resonate that well with me. I’m a Calvinist, predestined to de-emphasize human freedom. But … I’m not a neo-Calvinist who insists that everyone else see the world the way I do, so I didn’t get too hung up on it in Love Wins.)

Certainly, Rob is under no obligation to answer all the questions his readers have or to package his beliefs in such a way that makes it easy for me to explain them. So, it’s taken me some time to digest Love Wins. And now that I’ve done that, here are some of my thoughts about the strengths of Love Wins and its impact on the debate about heaven and hell.

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One of the best things about Love Wins is its corrective of the all-too-common idea that heaven and hell are far off and someday places. For too long, our mental images of what heaven and hell are like have been derived from Dante’s Inferno, folk art, and tradition. Seeking different sources, Rob roots his position in an almost mind-numbing barrage of Bible references coupled with his now trademark reliance on Hebrew thought patterns. In the Hebrew mind, questions of heaven and hell are far less important than questions about life here and now.

Christian theologians talk about the “already-not yet” nature of God’s kingdom. Even so, most of the time when we think of it, we think in terms of the “not yet” part. Rob swings the pendulum to the “already,” forcing us to consider the ways in which heaven and hell are here and now. There is a distinctive earthiness to his descriptions of heaven and hell that break our comfortable theological categories and thrust us into new levels of understanding.

Another really important aspect of Love Wins is its embrace of the divine surprise on the day of reckoning. We tend to have it all figured out. We know who’s in and who’s out; who is going to make it and who is not. I joke about churches who think that they will be on the first bus to heaven. (At Vintage, I’m pretty sure that our bus is a Volkswagen … and I hope Jesus will be our designated driver.)

Jesus describes the day of reckoning as a day of surprises. Some who expect to make it, won’t: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven.” And some who make it can’t figure out why: “When did we see you naked and clothed you?” It will be a day that people are dumbfounded and shocked.

I am sure that Rob’s chapter on how Jesus can be found in unexpected places will raise the red flags of the discernment websites. I can hear the blog chatter now, “Does Rob Bell believe that Buddists will be in heaven?” Or worse, “Does Rob Bell believe that Muslims will be in heaven?” These questions may miss the point. A better question is “Will Baptists be in hell?”

I personally have lost confidence in all of the very assured answers I was taught about who is in and who is out. When it comes to the eschaton, judgment, and eternity, there are only a few things about which I remain confident. One of them is that the whole thing is going to be one big surprise.

The best chapter in Love Wins is the one about the good news. Rob details how a gospel message that is merely a get-out-of-hell free card is woefully inadequate. If we merely view God as some kind of comic bouncer, we are completely missing the point of the story. Heaven is a party, a feast, a banquet, a blast. The good news is so much better than we think!

What is so dangerous about hoping that God is even more gracious than we could have ever imagined? Why are so many Christians threatened by the idea that more people would get to experience God’s eternal love than they had expected? Do any of us get heaven because we deserve it? If I don’t deserve it, what do I care if God shares it with someone other than me? Isn’t that even more a reason to celebrate? What’s so bad about hoping that the good news is even better than that?

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Love Wins has already resonated profoundly in the Christian community. And I expect that resonance to continue. The Last Word and the Word After That by Brian McLaren was an important book in this ongoing debate, but it will probably never have the reach of Love Wins. Many people like me have wondered to ourselves and questioned the traditional answers silently. Rob has put controversial and thought-provoking words on a page and invited people to enter into the white space with their own thoughts and reflections.

At the very least, Love Wins furthers the conversation about heaven and hell, the relationship between Christianity and other religions, the nature of judgment, and ultimately, the character and nature of God. These are important conversations.

These are important conversations because “heretic” is a powerful word that shouldn’t be thrown around lightly.

These are important conversations because beliefs matter, especially for pastors whose jobs can depend on whether or not they ask the question in the right way and frame the answer in a manner that won’t offend too many people.

These are important conversations because much of the planet is engulfed in wars that have alarmingly religious undertones.

These are important conversations because the gospel story we’ve been telling ourselves might be wrong.

These are important conversations because the fate of billions of people may hang in the balance.